<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>The Real Party by Gentlybreezed</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28555416">The Real Party</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gentlybreezed/pseuds/Gentlybreezed'>Gentlybreezed</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>SongXiao Modern Domestic Love [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Mo Dao Zu Shi, 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Modern AU, care!!, h/c without the hurt, written in one day bc why not, zichen's mysophobia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 00:34:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,599</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28555416</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gentlybreezed/pseuds/Gentlybreezed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen attend a party. Post Party Socialization aftercare ensues, paired with Howls Moving Castle</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Song Lan/Xiao XingChen, songxiao</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>SongXiao Modern Domestic Love [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2074644</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Real Party</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Shout out to <a> Mary </a> for both beta'ing and teaching me how to embed links lmaoo</p><p>Note: The character 娃 (Wá) once means baby, 娃娃 (Wáwá) means doll, and 娃娃娃 (WáWáWá) means baby doll. I am not chinese american, did a single google translate, and had a headache when i was writing it so this is IT in terms of my creativity. </p><p>Enjoy.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen are not what one would consider party people. They’ve been to plenty, hosted a few, and have rigorous standards for a good party. The childhood friends, the classmates, would be surprised to find Xingchen smiling and declining most of the offers to these things. On the rare occasion that these two can be found at a social gathering like this, it is...an experience for everyone else. </p><p>Zichen has gone in 1800s victorian hoop skirts with diameters of at least 6 feet. Once, they attended in matching xianxia cosplay complete with matching horse whips, Xingchen sharply whipping anyone who got mindlessly close to Zichen. Today is a small thing: the birthday of a close friend. Few people have been invited, but Zichen’s skin still feels itching, like a too-tight suit over a comically baggy tshirt. He grinds his teeth and mentally subjects his heart to a judging stare until it chills out. </p><p>They’re there for an hour at most. Zichen had insisted on attending-it was one of his younger brothers from the temple and he does not regret going. One or two people had attempted a handshake, only to be rapped on the knuckles by Xingchen’s wooden hand fan. People forgave them quickly- they are beautiful together and separate, carry an intoxicating air of a lifelong love found between kitchen tiles and favorite mugs. Their effect on people is instant, so who cares if the tall handsome man doesn’t want to shake hands?</p><p>Xingchen drives them home. He doesn’t have his license, but he’s careful enough about it these days  to allow Zichen the chance to stare off into the passing distance. They talk quietly as they walk home, up the stairs to their apartment. Zichen’s skin has the beginning of the “socializing residue” and Xingchen has a towel and Zichen’s favorite pajamas in his hands before he can say anything. (It feels like hands touching rotting matter, like foods that cough dust and squish, like honey thats been in the dirt. Song Lan scrubs it all away under steaming water and his favorite soaps.) He gratefully accepts them and steps into the bathroom.</p><p>He comes out of the shower, finishing the song that was playing while he fixed his hair beneath his breath- stops.</p><p>The tv lights up the scene. Their couch, clean and the softest blankets thrown over its surface. On the small table in front of it- popcorn, a bowl of chocolate chips, a bag of hot chips with chopsticks nearby, glasses of water next to their nicest and fanciest glasses containing bubbly blue soda. The last oranges, napkins. The Tv plays the theme song on a minute loop over the movie menu- <em> Howl’s Moving Castle </em>. Xingchen had stopped arranging the scene, comedically froze in his spot like a looney toon villain caught painting the wall to look like a roadway tunnel. </p><p>He smiles. The exhaustion of the party settles into Song Lan’s bones, settles Zichen into his own being. Xingchen makes a “ta da!” motion with his hands and arms, gesturing to the scene. The bags beneath his eyes are lost in the brilliant shine of his smile, in his eyes and scrunched nose. Zichen is standing before him in an instant, a moth and his candle flame. </p><p>He reaches a hand out-stops. Xiao Xingchen understands, he always understands. “I know today was pretty bad.”  Offers his own hands beneath Song Lan’s, if he wants them. Zichen ghosts his fingertips beneath Xingchen’s elbows, lands them tentatively at his wrist’s pulse point. Ok. Xingchen smiles.</p><p> Curls them in to place one knuckle there-the backs of his fingers, curled into his palm. Zichen hates how long this takes- knows that if he goes too fast he might reach a point that's uncomfortable and negates how good any small contact was.  </p><p>Song Lan slowly drags the back of his knuckles across the heel of Xingchen’s hand. (Xingchen stretches his thumb, makes his hand a flat plane. Smiles when Zichen looks up at him.) The back of his fingers settle in Xiao Xingchen’s palm.</p><p> “Good?” Song Lan nods. Xingchen’s outstretched fingers slowly curl in, tickle the air around Zichen’s hand. A shiver runs up his spine- stretches his fingers out beneath Xingchen’s to twine them together. His skin feels electric, like a balloon and static electricity and strange physics- </p><p>And before Song Lan can spiral anymore, a toddler sized stuffed animal is thrown into his lap. A blue whale, from one of their first dates. Xingchen smiles at him, across the couch and underneath <em> A-Wa </em>’s head, lightly squeezes his hand between them. Zichen wraps an arm around her, smiles as the movie starts in front of them. </p><p>WaWaWa was recently washed- she still smells like soap and feels like the softest thing on the planet. His favorite blanket wraps around him, smells like Xingchen and their room. The plot passes by in vivid colors and animation- Zichen always felt for Sophie when she finds herself more comfortable in her old bones. His skin stops vibrating, sinks into his relaxed muscles, relaxes his aching party-standing bones. He only finds himself in Xingchen’s lap when a gentle, cool kiss is placed to his forehead. Song Lan looks up, and realizes he’s the luckiest man in the world. Xingchen turns his attention back to the movie-Zichen thinks they're maybe halfway through by the sound- and Song Lan simply watches him. </p><p>It is something to be known and understood. Something complicated, woven by the invisible loom of the universe itself. It hurts to be known at his worst, his fears and desperations- it hurts to still be loved despite them. Or because of them. Zichen never knows which it is. Above him, Xiao Xingchen sighs a wistful thing, greens and blues flashing across his face. Zichen has curled up around him- an arm lays across him, their twined hands held closely to his own chest. His body feels solid, alive. Quiet.</p><p>He stares for who knows how long. Xingchen looked down at him once, an inquisitive look on his face. “Do you want me to move so you can see the movie?” He shakes his head, blatantly continues his staring as Xingchen returns his attention to the movie with a shy smile. Something aches in his chest- a forlorn wam glow, like he is bathing in something he once only dreamt of. </p><p>Xingchen smells like home. Smiles like it too. His hands feel like home, his ribs and thighs like home. Xiao Xingchen smiles like a million of anything, of the universe or life itself, and he can hold Zichen without his body forcefully ejecting his consciousness to another plane of uncomfort. Xingchen, who carefully holds him and sits in such a way that Zichen can leave if hes too much- is suddenly not enough. Its not enough to lay there, to bask in the love and care and patience and understanding Xingchen gives him so freely, so easily. </p><p>Xiao Xingchen hums an inquisitive note as Zichen tiredly crawls up his torso, hovering his hands around his boyfriend’s wriggling form. Song Lan, wrapped in a blanket, his WaWa abandoned on the other side of the couch, indignantly nuzzles his entire head into the crook of Xingchen’s neck, sits in his lap. His arms wrap around Xiao Xingchen’s torso, beneath his arms, and he stills as the movie plays on. Xingchen places his hands on his own knees on either side of Zichen, careful not to touch. </p><p>They are nearing the end of the movie when a whine comes from beneath Xiao Xingchen’s head. The kiss he places in hair elicits a huff of air, and a tighter squeeze before Song Lan whines again. Xingchen laughs, tries to kiss his hair again-gets another whine. “Zichen my love I’m sorry, I don't understand! What do you want?”A drawn out sigh, in time to the movie- Sophie is bargaining for Howl’s heart right now. Xingchen squeaks a bit as Song Lan’s arms unwind themselves, fingers skimming down his shoulders to his wrists, and sloppily wraps them around Zichen himself. Song Lan hums contentedly into Xingchen’s collarbone when he laughs, wraps his arms back around Xingchen’s torso as Xingchen wraps his own arms around his boyfriend’s cuddly form. </p><p>They watch for a few minutes more, Zichen gently shivering beneath his blanket and Xingchen’s arms. If Xingchen has already manipulated WaWaWa into being an arm’s length away from Song Lan...what can he say. He’s in love. He smiles into Zichen’s hair, the smell of the shampoo they can only find in the store 20 minutes away. When Zichen looks up, he’ll find the attention he wants already on him. Always. And they stare at each other for a moment- the stars dance in a circle around the changing sky, a never ending and undefinable dance, unnoticed by either movie watcher. </p><p>It is when they crash into the pools around the field, as Howl trades his heart for a shooting star- that they kiss. Beneath his hands, the last tension in Zichen’s back dissipates like a ripple in water, the tension he’s been holding since he got dressed to go out. The music behind them crescendos, making the moment feel like a scene from a cheesy romcom- they’ll laugh about it later.</p><p>For now, the stars fall on the tv screen, lighting up their living room with bright flashes. They sing into the humming room, ignored by unhearing ears and closed eyes as Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen delicately kiss on their couch. </p><p>It is gentle and perfect. It is theirs.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>